


Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

by lalibertalia



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Gen, Legion - Freeform, Post-7.2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2017-05-17
Packaged: 2018-11-01 18:12:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10927287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalibertalia/pseuds/lalibertalia
Summary: Maiev stared daggers at the people gathering in the square, who danced and drank as if the world weren’t burning. Even her Wardens were celebrating, sipping on mugs of pandaren ale, while the Illidari shot firecrackers into the sky.Or, in which Maiev hates parties and Vanessa decides she needs to loosen up a little.





	Seeking a Friend for the End of the World

The sun had long set on the Broken Shore by the time Khadgar’s band of heroes returned from their mission, but Deliverance Point was ablaze with light. Tonight they had crippled the Sentinax, and while the Legion would surely make their repairs, the attack bought the Armies of Legionfall at least a few days of peace. This, of course, was reason enough to celebrate—it had been months since their troops could sleep with any degree of certainty that they wouldn’t be woken in the middle of the night by some impending disaster. And so tonight Deliverance Point was alive, as the Armies of Legionfall danced in revelry, relishing in the vulnerability that they had earned. Even Khadgar seemed at rest, arm in arm with Modera, swaying rhythmically to some Dwarven tune. 

Maiev hated all of it. She stared daggers at the people gathering in the square, who danced and drank as if the world weren’t burning. Even her Wardens were celebrating, sipping on mugs of pandaren ale, while the Illidari shot firecrackers into the sky. Out of the corner of her eye she caught Illidan, daring to make what looked like casual conversation with Kath’leen, a drink in hand. _Even he would be so foolish as to let his guard down, while the legion lurks below?_ Maiev curled her lips in disgust as she perched on the cliffside, looking down at Cinder Run and trying to tune out the noise.

“Room for two?”

Maiev whipped around, hands hovering at the pommel of her glaives, and was met with a pair of sea-green and very accusing eyes. The Shadowblade’s sidekick—Vanessa something-or-other, wasn’t it?—stood not three paces away, a pair of drinks in her hand. 

“What do you want?” Maiev snapped. Vanessa seemed unfazed, and Maiev’s grip on her weapons tightened.

“Everyone’s celebrating,” she said plainly, “and you’re sulking behind the mage tower. I thought you might need someone to talk to.” She held out a glass. “Or at least a drink.”

A drink was either the first or the last thing Maiev needed right now, and neither was made more appealing by the human bringing it to her. _Perhaps I can drive her away._

“Where’s your Shadowblade?” Maiev sneered. 

Vanessa raised an eyebrow. “We’re not joined at the hip, you know.”

“Could have fooled me.”

Vanessa took a sip from one of the glasses. “Was that supposed to be an insult?”

This was not going according to plan.

“Supposed to be, yes,” Maiev spat. 

“Hm, needs work,” Vanessa said with a shrug, and made her way to the ledge. “But I guess that’s what happens when you waste all your snark on Illidan.”

Maiev recoiled as if she had been shot. “How dare you—” 

“See,” Vanessa interrupted with a laugh, “that’s how it’s done.”

Maiev narrowed her eyes. She studied the human’s face, looking for some kind of ulterior motive, some intent to deceive. She found none. Rogues could be tricky like that, she knew. But she could appreciate a sharp wit when she saw one, and so she slowly—and reluctantly—reached for the glass that Vanessa offered. 

“Is this why the Shadowblade keeps you around?” she asked pointedly, as she swirled the liquid. “For your quick tongue?”

“Among other things,” Vanessa said with a wolfish grin—and oh Elune, Maiev thought disgustedly, did this human just have the audacity to wink at her?

“And what makes you think I would want to talk to you?” Maiev asked, grimacing.

Vanessa shrugged. “Maybe we have some things in common.”

“Enlighten me.”

Vanessa paused for a moment, thinking, and took another sip of her drink. “Well,” she began, “I’m no expert in demons or the fel, but I think the real hero Azeroth needs is someone to pull the stick from Tyrande’s backside.”

Maiev couldn’t help it—she let out a sharp bark of a laugh. Then she caught herself, slowed her breathing, and stared out over the fel-tinged wasteland in front of them.

“You want to talk?” Maiev said coldly. “Talk about what?”

Vanessa dug her heels into the rocky cliff. “Whatever’s on your mind.”

Maiev was silent.

“Here, I’ll even go first,” Vanessa prompted. She held out her hand. “Greetings, I’m Vanessa VanCleef. I saw my father murdered in front of me, spent half a decade rebuilding his criminal empire, and lost my place in the Uncrowned to the woman I’m forced to guard. Now, somehow, I can’t stand the idea of leaving her, and I’m fighting alongside the very kingdom that the Defias were meant to destroy.” 

_Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?_ whispered a voice in her head which Maiev chose to ignore. She stared at the hand outstretched in front of her. “Do you make a habit of vomiting your secrets to complete strangers?” she said instead.

Green eyes rolled as Vanessa pulled her hand away and stood. “Right then, I understand,” she said. “I’ll leave you to yourself, if that’s what you want—there’s a party to enjoy. But don’t say that no one ever tried, yeah?”

As she watched the rogue pull herself upright and head back towards the square, Maiev stilled. 

She was an outsider. Someone who neither knew her past, nor reminded her of it. And with a twist in her gut, she realized she was right.

No one _had_ ever tried.

Then, reluctantly—

_You have more in common than you thought._

“Wait,” Maiev spat. 

Vanessa stopped, but didn’t turn around. Maiev cursed under her breath. _Keep it about her. Don’t reveal too much._

“You’re a prisoner too, then.”

At this Vanessa turned, though she kept her distance. She tilted her head and looked down— _how dare she look down_ —at Maiev sitting below. “I thought so at first,” she said.

“But not anymore.”

“No.”

Maiev shivered. “Why?”

Vanessa crossed her arms. “I’d tell you,” she said with a frown, “but I don’t make a habit of—what did you say? Vomiting secrets to strangers?”

Maiev groaned and sipped her drink. Let the rogue go, then, and leave her in peace. 

_That’s not what you want._

“I don’t need friends,” Maiev muttered.

“What?”

She looked up to see the human standing above her, and for a moment she saw herself reflected in those fierce green eyes as Vanessa must see her: a once-mighty warden, now nothing but a forlorn figure clutching a lonely drink. Maiev took a deep breath, glanced at her cup, and drained the contents. “Then let’s not be strangers,” she said bitterly, as she wiped the drips from her mouth. She raised her glass. “Get me another, and I’ll tell you what demons plague my mind.”

A small grin spread across Vanessa’s face. She took the glass wordlessly, turning it upside-down before heading back the way she came.

“VanCleef!” Maiev called from behind her. 

Vanessa paused, and turned her head.

“If you speak a word of this, you’ll wake with my glaive between your shoulderblades.”

Beneath the shadow of the tower, Maiev could barely see Vanessa wave her off as she disappeared into the darkness. 

_That didn’t hurt, now, did it?_

“Shut up,” Maiev grumbled, and kicked a pebble off the cliff for good measure.


End file.
